Stairs: The Dread of a Parent
by Auto-Alchemechanicist
Summary: They warned her not to go near them. That it wasn't safe, that it wasn't a toy, but Karina didn't listen. When they let their guard down, what would happen to the curious toddler? EdXWinry. R/R,plz!


_So yeah, hate me for this. This particular story was lingering in my computer since New Year's Day. I wanted to save this for a future fic, but I got impatient and just decided to post it. I edited it and everything and I noticed my writing has improved. I like that. I don't want to give anything away, but I'll just tell you that Ed's telling the story. And everything is explained in here, so I won't take away anymore time! I hope you enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own FMA. Arakawa does and everyone knows that.**_

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**Stairs: The Dread of a Parent**

I shudder at this one. It's something that I don't really want to talk about, yet it always haunts me, so I have to remind Winry about it, too. It's easy to remember it clearly, even though I don't want to. Maybe because it wasn't like other mornings where I would get up at five to get to Central at seven, and see the Fuehrer's arrogant frog face when I entered the building. Maybe because I didn't have to head to the Village Hall to do my governor duties. I had the day off since it was Sunday.

Maybe because Al and Aunty were in Dublith, due to an emergency call that someone was in need of mechanical limbs because of a near death experience.

Or maybe because Winry was acting a bit like my automail when it would give me a tough time: straining my nerves and sending them to combustion. It's not that I _enjoyed_ the squabbles that my wife and I had. It's that it bothered me to see her cry afterwards, or get a wrench thrown at my head. But this argument was a calmer, quieter one. Harmless if you will; neither of us getting hurt in the process, emotionally or physically.

"Edward, did you already get her birthday gift?" Winry asked me for the billionth time.

"Yes, I got it wrapped and everything." I answered with annoyance.

She glared at me for a while noticing my acidic tone and then turned to the kitchen to start on breakfast. She had bee asking me that all month, and I had given her the same answer every time. It was irritating.

"You got the pink dress?" She called from the kitchen.

"U-huh"

"And the yellow one?"

"Yep."

"And what about—"

"The blue one?" I cut her off.

"Yes."

"Yes. Don't worry, Win. I got it covered. Just relax. Six more days and the party will pass." I reassured her.

"Okay."

"Win, what's with all the questions? I feel like you don't trust me on this." I said entering the kitchen to join her.

"No, it's not that I don't trust you. Of course I do. But—"

"But?" I prompted.

"I don't know. I just want to make sure of everything. I want her gifts to be perfect."

"Oh, don't worry. They were perfect since the minute you picked them out." I told her.

"And I do want her to have more clothes. She seems to have a small amount on that."

I looked at her with disbelief. She seems to have a small amount? Kid's probably got more clothes in her closet than I do in mine. And mine's probably ready to burst!

"Oh yeah, 'cause we don't want for her to run out or anything." I sarcastically remarked.

She smiled at me.

"You are so right."

"I always seem to be, don't I?" I asked, a little too cocky.

"Yes, because you are the smartest, most wonderful person in the world who always is right no matter what." She said, kissing me with every adjective she said, and then giving me a final kiss at the end.

I smiled at that, knowing she was being much too kind with me, and also playing a little.

Our lips parted and she turned to the refrigerator to take out the egg carton to start on breakfast. A plan she'd been stalling this morning.

I went to help her out, doing whatever she instructed me to do. I obeyed all her commands, even the occasional kisses— my favourite request.

Once finished, I looked around at the nearly five month old kitchen, finally noticing some of its features like the wooden designs on the cabinet doors and the polished marble counter surrounding the glossy stove in the middle of it; the shiny steel sink located on the left side of the counter and the large, sparkly silver-metallic fridge near the entrance.

"I think I'm starting to get used to this place." I said.

"Yeah, well, when you make it your home, you get that sense." I could hear her smile in her response.

We ate in silence, but after a while, we could hear Karina's wondering words, calling from her room.

"Mommy, wuere are you?" she sounded a little panicked.

"She will be so surprised to see you here." Winry said.

"I know. We hardly see each other in the morning. Let's go get her."

We travelled up the stairs, towards our daughter's room, and I had the pleasure of seeing Karina's eyes widen and then smile to see that I was here, in her room, watching her wake up.

"Daddy!" She exclaimed, jumping up and down on her crib.

"Look, Rina, daddy's here." Winry fuelled.

"Hi baby. You had a good night's rest?" I asked taking her in my arms.

"Mh-hm." She answered, giving me a kiss on my cheek.

"That's good. You wanna get breakfast? Mommy made yummy stuff."

"Yeah, yummy stuff!" She said jumping in my arms.

I turned to see Winry giggling at my silly comment and then we took our daughter to the kitchen.

We fed Rina for a few minutes only having her turn her high-chair, her face, us, and the table into a mess. I'm serious when I say that baby's got good arms because she can throw the way Winry can. Not as hard and not as far, but she's getting there. Food flew everywhere, reaching Winry's face, my chest, and part of my neck. Somehow, the tasty omelette turned into green eggs and ham when Karina splattered her apple juice on it. This kid has fun with her food instead of actually eating it. And she's almost two. The horror.

After having a somewhat weird clean up— washing and changing Rina, cleaning the kitchen, and Winry and I showering and changing clothes— Winry went into her shop and brought out her latest project to the living room. I plopped myself on the couch reading an alchemy book I had read one too many times. Our baby girl was sitting on the rug, playing with her countless dolls and toys that she never got tired of. It was strange, really, to watch my daughter play with all of her toys— and I mean all of them, even her very first ones— and give each of them her undivided attention, enjoying the peace the three of us had here. If I were to walk into Mustang's house—not that I would ever want to—I would see little Ben playing with a brand new toy his father bought for him, and the next day, he would have another, bigger, newer toy with him, the last toy long forgotten. But my daughter was different. She appreciated everything she had, even if most of what she had was toys. She didn't push any of them aside. She eventually did when she grew up, but I could tell from that moment that she would give dedication to all her things.

Winry got up slowly, contemplating her finished design of a new automail arm. I didn't know anything about automail, but I knew that as soon as her eyes sparkled the way they did, I knew she was satisfied with her work. I knew her all too well.

"It looks nice." I complemented.

"Thanks. I finally finished it. It took me so long that I felt that I would never complete it." She said with relief.

"Why?"

"It's not like most automail. It's…for children. I was trying to see if I could build such a thing just in case…a…a child needs it." She answered pain noticeable in her tone. I could guarantee I saw her eyes gleam with sadness; she looked like she wanted to cry.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rina look up to her mother with concern.

"Mommy, don't be sad." She pouted.

I got up and took her in my arms. Had something happened that I didn't know about?

"What's wrong? Why so sad all of a sudden?" I asked her soothingly.

"I don't know. I just…started to think of kids who might need automail, too. Kids who suffer from accidents and such." She answered hiding her face in my chest.

"That's a very kind though, Winry." I told her. "I haven't heard of that idea before."

"Yeah, well, it's just in case. I hope that kids don't need automail. I don't want to see them suffer more than that." She said.

"And even if they did need automail, you would be prepared. You would have limbs ready. You would save them just like you save adults."

"That is true." She said looking up at me with a small smile.

"See? What you do, it doesn't cause more pain. You help reduce it. You help people. You are only thinking of good things that can be helpful in the future." I reassured her.

"Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Ed." She said giving me a kiss on my chin and sighed.

"Better?" I asked.

"Better." She answered.

"Yey, Mommy's happy again!" Rina said standing up.

"Yep, she's as happy as ever." I said.

Winry laughed.

"Okay, who's hungry?" Winry asked.

"Rina is! Me! Me! Me!" She exclaimed jumping up and down.

"I'll go make lunch." Winry said.

"Need any help?" I offered.

"No, thanks. Bond with Rina for a while." Winry told me.

"'Kay. Rina, let's have some fun."

"Okay! Here daddy. Play with me. You can be Belle and I can be Cindy." She said innocently handing me a brunette haired doll with green eyes. She reminded me of my mom, by the way she looked, anyways.

After playing for a while with my almost two year old daughter, I let go of my mother-imaging doll— which now that I think about it sounds very weird— I let Karina play on her own for the remainder of the time and I went back to my book.

I heard her giggling, almost trying to hide it, but it sounded distant. Not like a memory, but as if she was a few feet away. I decided to direct my attention to her when I saw Rina climbing up the stairs. Abruptly, I stood and ran towards her, shivers running up my spine, hoping she wouldn't fall.

"Rina, no. Off the stairs." I ordered her.

"Why, daddy? They're fun." She said.

"They are not supposed to be fun. Look, the stairs are not a toy. You can't play with them like that."

"Why? They are just stairs."

Sometimes, I was amazed at my daughter's comments.

"They are dangerous. If you play with them and run up and down the stairs, you might fall and get hurt." I explained.

"But I won't get huwt. I'll be caweful." She reassured me, her tone so innocent.

"That's right. You will be careful because you won't play with them. You'll come with me to the couch and read or play with your dolls some more." I told her, carrying her off the step she was on.

She squirmed in my arms, trying to break away from my grasp; she squealed and whined, wanting to get back to her newly discovered 'toy'.

"Ah, daddy, let me go." She whimpered.

That was something else that really bothered me. Like her mother, Karina is a female with emotions and such, and she occasionally cries. I got the idea that she would cry if she was hungry or if she was upset, but I hated the idea of me _making_ her cry. I mean this was my kid here, my child. And for me to make my child, the little tiny being that Winry and I created together, cry, I really wanted to eat myself alive. But in this case— the case of the stairs— I had to balance it out. What was better: for me to eat myself or for her to cry? I think it was the second choice. Because I was not just gonna sit on the couch, doing nothing and watch my daughter fall down the stairs, getting hurt in the process. What kind of a father would I be to let that happen?

So, I carried my daughter, sat her on the couch with me, and got my book again. I could see her trying to get away, but I got a grip on her dress's collar; she couldn't escape.

But what really gets me is how determined Rina is. She kept trying no matter what and I think that was a time where I hated that Winry and I taught her that. She never gave up on trying to get to the stairs. She's as stubborn as Winry and I. Another feature she got from us.

And then, that's where I felt it. I felt her collar slip and heard her little feet trudge up the stairs, despite my warnings. She obviously wasn't going to listen to reason or her mother if I called her in here. But that would get her to jump, knowing both her parents were pissed off at her behaviour.

I went to the foot of the stairs and looked up to my overly-stubborn daughter.

"Winry?" I called.

"Yeah?" she answered.

"Look at what your daughter is doing." I said climbing the stairs.

"What?" she came in and saw our angel walking up the stairs. "RINA! Get off the stairs, now!"

"Why Mommy?" she asked.

"They are dangerous. You can get hurt."

"I won't get huw— Hey!"

I cut Rina off by carrying her. She started to kick and twist in attempts to get away from her father's grip. Then, she did what I didn't want her to do. She began to cry, loudly, continuing to kick and twist.

Winry took her from me, patting her on her back.

"Karina, we're only doing this for your own good. We don't want for anything to happen to you." She reassured the crying toddler.

"But…I…won't get…huwt. I'll be caweful." Rina pleaded.

"Sweetie, stairs are bad. We can walk with you while going up and down, but you can't go alone."

"Aww." She whined.

"Sorry, Rina, but that's how it is. You're our baby. We care for you too much."

"Okay, Mommy."

"Go with daddy, while I make lunch."

I took her from Winry's arms, taking her back to the couch, and distracting her, trying to drag the stairs idea away from her head.

That night, Al and Granny came home. Winry and I had made dinner for them, not failing to keep a close eye on the little wanderer. We chatted for a while, but I began to wonder where my curiously-filled daughter was.

I excused myself from the table to check on her, but when I rounded the corner to the living room, I saw Rina on the second step of the stairs. All of a sudden, they seem so far away. Like I wouldn't reach them if I ran now.

"Karina! What did I tell you about the stairs?" I asked her.

I felt Winry was behind me, just making sure of our daughter, too.

When she saw us, she was already on the fourth step. But, that's where the plan failed. Her tiny legs began to wobble and I suddenly saw her fall from the step, crashing to the third, falling to the second.

I ran to her— no doubt Winry wanting to beat me— but I was too late. My daughter had fallen to the floor, landing on the left side of her face, crying. I picked her up and noticed that she was bleeding from her left eyebrow. It was cut open, and I felt like destroying the damn stairs and the floor that had harmed my little girl. I was sure that would leave a scar.

That was it. I felt like eating myself whole. Not only did she cry, but she got hurt, and I couldn't do anything about it. Not even alchemy could fix that.

She screamed in pain and Winry looked like _she _could cry right now.

"Shit." She mumbled looking up, trying to keep her tears from falling as she took Rina in her arms.

I cursed under my breath and told Winry to take Rina to the bathroom to clean her up.

When she had reached the top step, Al and Pinako came out of the kitchen.

"What happened?" Al asked with concern.

I was hesitant to answer, maybe too freaked to respond, too ashamed to explain, or too scared that my voice would crack.

"Rina fell from the stairs." I told him.

"You need us to do anything?"

"No thanks, Al. We got it covered."

I walked to the bathroom like a zombie, not being able to relax about what had happened. I came in with the first aid kit, noticing Winry was wiping the blood off of Rina's face and eye. She was also talking to her, soothing words escaping her lips. Karina was still crying, but at least she wasn't screaming like she was a few minutes ago.

I could tell the clean-up was painful for both of them. We had decided that I was to finish cleaning her up, slowly placing alcohol on Rina's small wound. Winry would flinch when Rina jumped and I would feel worse when she stirred and refused to hold still. I felt like destroying the stair case when she whimpered; I felt like eating myself alive when she finally gave up and began to cry again. When I finally finished—which seemed never ending—I picked her up and began to cradle her in my arms. She would just keep starring at me, no smile decorating her adorable face and no giggle filling the all too quiet room.

After a while, I handed Rina to Winry, who eventually rocked her to sleep. I didn't feel like going down-stairs to face Al and Pinako, having to explain what happened. But I knew that I would have to anyways. So I swallowed my guilt for a few minutes when they asked me what had gone on. After a half-hour of explaining, they understood and went upstairs to see Rina.

Winry came down to where I was and sat next to me on the couch. I wrapped my left arm around her waist, leaning her closer to me.

"I feel like a bad parent." She finally said.

"You too?" I asked.

"Yeah. How could we not get to her fast enough?"

"I don't know. We were there, but we didn't react."

"How could that be?"

"I wish I could have been faster."

"Oh, we told her not to play with the stairs. We warned her."

"I know, but she's just as stubborn as us. She won't listen to reason."

"But maybe she will now that she's seen that we were right about the stairs not being a toy."

"We'll eventually teach her how to walk up the stairs."

"She'll be able to walk on them on her own…when she's six."

"Probably. That's if we're not too over-protective."

"Yeah."

We stayed silent for a few minutes, letting the tension slip away slowly out of our heads. I lost track of time when I felt my eyes starting to close, heavy with sleep.

"Edward, let's go to bed. You look tired." Winry told me after I felt my head rest on hers.

I opened my eyes and got up with her at my side. I stretched for a couple of seconds before I took out my pocket watch to peek at the time.

"It's eleven, already?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yep. Go to sleep Ed, you got to go to Central tomorrow."

"I know. I know. I'm going to see the Fuehrer's smug face again. Hurray." I said with sleepy, false anticipation.

Damn. I didn't know how I would be able to concentrate on work the next day knowing that Rina was still hurt, still wounded, probably fearing the stairs now. But I was sure Winry and I would get her through it. I knew we would get her through it. She was stubborn of course, but she would be able to get past the stairs soon. She even forget about them. And until that time came, Winry and I would either carry her down or help her walk through them. Now that I think of it, she has no problem with them; she runs up and down the stairs not even remembering the incident, like it never happened. But even if _she_ doesn't remember it, Winry and I do. Not because we had front row seats or anything. It was the fear we had that our baby would get hurt; the terror of having her traumatized for a long time. But everything worked out fine. She's not scared of them anymore. Hell, she even beats me down the stairs. However, I won't forget how my daughter got her first wound, her first scar. I don't think I can ever forgive myself for letting her shed tears and blood all in the same second. That can't be erased from my memory, and I don't think anything can erase it, no matter how hard I try.

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_I hope everyone got the idea that Ed was telling a memory. I personally cringe at Rina's accident because hehe, this happened to a certain author whose parents told her about that certain incident and her certain parents reacted like Ed and Winry. ^-^ Anyways, I hope you liked because I spent countless hours on this. R/R, plz! They are appreciated and I am very grateful! Thank you all for your time!_

_-Auto-Alchemechanicist-_


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